


Something Wicked This Way Comes

by sas



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (but only if you squint really hard), Drug Use, F/F, Girl Gang!AU, Misplaced Anger, a lot of unresolved feelings going on in this, ableist slurs, depictions of violence, mentions of drug-dealing, self-destructive behaviour, slight bloodkink, tw for mention of rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 19:10:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3781120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sas/pseuds/sas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allison runs away from her life and finds a home with a group of girls who wear pretty smiles and brass knuckles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Wicked This Way Comes

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution to the Allydia Reversebang.
> 
> My art piece was this [amazing fanmix](https://8tracks.com/dapatty/all-monsters-here) by [dapatty](http://dapatty.tumblr.com/).
> 
> It was beta'd by the lovely and patient [iminlovewithlaughing](http://iminlovewithlaughing.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Thank you both!

Allison had never been in a fight before, but there’s a first time for everything. Lately, her anger seemed so close to the surface that when a short girl pushed her out of the way in order to reach the bar first, Allison felt something inside her roar to life. She gripped the girl’s shoulder hard, and spun her around.

“Bitch, I was there before you.”

The other girl simply looked her up and down before turning to her group of friends and letting a derisive laugh wash over Allison. “I couldn’t give a fuck. Get your hand off me, you raggedy motherfucker.”

Just as Allison pulled her arm back, fist raised and jaw set, she felt a strong hand on her shoulder. She quickly spun around, and was surprised by what she was met with. The two girls looking at her did not look as if they were about to attack her, rather they flanked her and stood staring down the small group of girls that Allison had been about to jump at.

The blonde one spoke first. “Is there a problem here?”

The short girl who had cut in front of Allison wilted under their gaze. “She grabbed me first, I was just…”

Allison could have sworn the other girl behind her snarled before she said, “You were just about to cause a fight in one of our clubs.”

“No, I wasn’t, I swear.”

“If I remember correctly, we were pretty forgiving when it came to your brother’s little episode last year. Maybe you could find it in your heart to be forgiving of this young lady.” The blonde’s voice dripped sweetness, but her eyes were cold. It obviously had the desired effect, as the group of girls all nodded quickly and scampered off.

Smiling, Allison turned to thank the two women behind her. Her smile quickly faltered, however, when she saw the harsh look both girls were throwing her way.

“You, come with us. The boss wants to see you.”

Allison felt all of the fight leave her as the girls turned and walked away, clearly expecting her to follow. The two seemed fierce, not like they could be controlled easily, and anyone they referred to as “the boss” had to be seriously scary. Allison expected some Don Corleone look-a-like.

She couldn’t have been more wrong.

At the back of the club, half-hidden in shadow, a group of girls sat piled into one booth. All of them were preternaturally pretty, but wearing matching stony expressions. In the middle of all of them sat a pale girl with bright red hair, and Allison could tell she was watching her with great consideration. The two girls who escorted Allison to the group retook their places at either side, sliding into the booth wordlessly. A moment passed without anyone speaking. When Allison tried to speak, to fill the charged air with something, the redhead held up a dainty hand to silence her.

“I don’t appreciate people making trouble in my clubs.”

“I wasn’t…” The words died in her mouth. She wasn’t sure why, but she knew lying would not be her wisest choice right now. For her trouble, she received a weak smile from the other girl.

“I know what I saw.”

“Right. Well, I’m sorry. Just a bad day, I guess.”

The redhead nodded thoughtfully, pursing her lips so her dimples became very pronounced.

“We’ve noticed you around lately. New to the area?”

“Uh, yeah. My family lived here when I was younger, but then we moved further south. I… I decided to come back.”

“So, you don’t know how things work around here?”

Allison looked at her feet. She had heard whispers, whispers that the whole area was run by a gang, and run with an iron fist. She didn’t know what exactly they did, or who they were, but she knew that you didn’t mess with them. She didn’t say any of this, though. She simply shook her head. The entire group that faced her had remained silent, and she found this very unnerving.

“Sit down.” Whenever the redhead spoke, it was a command. Allison moved quickly to fit herself into the booth. When she was settled, the Japanese girl to the redhead’s right spoke.

“Drink?”

“Uh, yeah. I’ll have a Jack, on ice.”

The girl beckoned the waitress over, gave her the table’s order, and slapped a fifty on to her tray. The waitress nodded briefly and left, returning moments later with a full tray.

The redhead sipped her drink before carefully placing it back down on the table and looking up at Allison. “What’s your name?”

“Allison.”

“Allison what?”

She felt panic rise in her throat. She knew that what had happened with her family, what her aunt had done, was national news. She knew the name would be a give-away, a veritable target on her back. So she thought quickly, her mother’s maiden name. “Baker.”

“Okay, Allison Baker. Welcome to Beacon Hills.”

Allison nodded.

“There are a few things you need to know, if you’re going to be sticking around.”

“Okay.”

“First of all, that,” the redhead waved her finger around, signalling the almost-fight that Allison had been involved in, “is not accepted in any of my establishments, from anyone. My name is Lydia. My girls and I run things around here. We keep this area safe, hold down our borders, and keep an eye on what everyone else is doing.”

“So, you’re like a gang?”

Allison couldn’t miss the blonde’s growl this time. Lydia, for her part, shot her a derisive look which silenced her.

“For all intents and purposes, but we’re not about to jump anyone in or shoot some innocent people to make a point. First and foremost, we’re about keeping bigger and badder things away from our community. We don’t run the drugs, but we have a hold on the ones who do--we make sure that the drugs stay clean, that there is a certain level of ethics involved in their distribution, that there isn’t too much danger involved. Some people like to pay us to make sure they stay safe, and we do that. We don’t tolerate people breaking our rules. We don’t tolerate opposition.”

“Okay. I get you, loud and clear.” Allison drained the end of her drink and made to stand. The second enforcer-type grabbed her forearm, ensuring she stayed sitting.

“My point, Allison, was that we run something here, and we run it well. We’ve been watching you. You seem angry, but you seem smart. We’re always looking for people like that.”

“You want me to join your gang?”

“No, I’m offering you a job.”

* * *

 

As Lydia expected, it didn’t take long for Allison to adapt to their way of life. Like Erica and Malia, Allison had a buzz of anger around her; she was ready to take on the entire world. The first fight they had gotten involved in, Allison hung back at first. When she got a boot to the back, it was like watching a superhero transform. The look of terror that froze her face changed very quickly to a curled lip and a fire in the eyes. She had spun on her attacker and thrown her whole body into the assault. As they walked away, Allison wiped at the blood trickling from her nose and laughed like a gleeful child.

Most of the gang had had a similar reaction after their first fight. There was a joy in finding out that you were not made of glass, a freedom and a sense of immortality.

After that first fight, they went to the club and talked animatedly over drinks. Allison noticed Lydia watching everyone, as she often did. She leaned closer to her and asked, “Why me?”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you pick me? Why not just kick my ass and send me on my way?”

Lydia surveyed her for a second, green eyes flicking across her features. A soft smile crossed her face before she turned back to the group. She tipped her drink toward the girl sitting on the outside of the booth with brown hair and tanned skin.

“When we were fifteen, Malia came to town. She had been thrown out of her house, was living rough, doing what she needed to do to survive. We brought her in, gave her a job and a home, got her a GED. Now she’s our best enforcer, and she’s made of something special. Always joking.”

She pointed her drink at the Japanese girl. “Kira and her parents used to live in New York. They ran a small store, but some gang members, Yakuza, were trying to take most of their profits as ‘protection money’. When they upped sticks for California, an enforcer followed them. When we ran him out, Kira pledged herself here. Don’t let her fool you, she’s timid and shy but she’s crazy good with business and keeping our shit as legit as possible. A dab hand at pretty much every weapon she picks up, too.”

Lydia then pointed her drink at the blonde. “You remind me a lot of Erica, when she first came to me, too. She was so angry. Make no mistake, Erica Reyes is made of fire. She spent her whole childhood and early teens being tormented. She was sick; like, kid in a bubble sick, and people are terrible. But she was feisty, quick and clever. She would get picked up by the cops all the time, so she basically knows everyone down at the station, which helps us out a lot. She’s been with me longest, and I genuinely don’t know what I would do without her.”

Next was the girl with sallow skin and straight, dark hair. “Cora, she’s part of a big family that used to basically run this whole county. Her brother is the second for the McCall gang, the ones that deal with our drug-market. It’s pretty much only those two left. A few years ago, they lost most of their family. It was terrible. Cora was so lost afterwards. We were friends, you know, from when we were kids. She proved herself pretty quickly, and sort of became my right hand after Braeden stepped down.”

“Wow,” Allison breathed. “What about you?”

“I’m just in it for the money.” Lydia had a devilish smirk on her face that made Allison feel as if she was about to be eaten. “No, seriously. My grandmother, her girlfriend and some of their friends were tired of all the abuse and violence they were facing for who they were--gay, educated, liberal, rough and unapologetic, they weren’t exactly Susie Homemakers. A lot of people, especially men, didn’t like that. So they started to stand up for themselves. They started to make this an area you could be safe in, no matter who you were. When she died, a few of my aunts took over the family business, then my cousins. My cousin Braeden ran it until a little while ago. I graduated college early, so when I did, the reins got handed to me.”

“You went to college?”

Lydia looked at her, eyes wide, a curious look on her face. “Of course I did. I have a Masters in Biochemical Engineering.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-two.” Lydia shrugged. “Why are you surprised?”

“I think everything about this surprises me. I always had this image of girl gangs as some extension of male gangs. I don’t know.”

Allison saw several of the girls raise their eyebrows and realised they were listening.

“You read all of these articles about ‘girl gangs’ in the newspapers,” Lydia said, plucking a half-smoked cigarette from between Cora’s fingers. “They all tend to think we’re victims. Like, we do this because some big bad boys jumped us in and we can’t get out.”

The rest of the group laughed lightly, clearly amused.

“So, why do you do it, really?”

Lydia smirked. “Most of us don’t have any other family except this one. We’ve definitely all got some reason to be here, some reason why we belong together. Sure, we’re angry, but we have these sisters who aren’t just 'ride or die', they’re ‘I will cut every motherfucker in the world down for you’. Plus, the money isn’t bad, either. We keep people safe, the good people of this community. Better our brand of evil than some yuppie group who’ll let old women get mugged on street corners and fourteen year old girls get raped walking home from school.”

The rest of the group nodded. Allison, satisfied with this answer, lay back in the booth and sipped her beer, watching the conversation recommence.

* * *

 

Every Friday night, the gang met to discuss business for the week. Usually, the met out the back of one of their clubs in town. They were all standing there, huddled around, when Allison turned into the alleyway. As she was walking up to the group, the sound of Erica’s voice reached her.

“We have to tell her.”

“No, we don’t. We actually like her. We want her to stay around,” Malia said.

“And she will. She’s a special one.”

Not wanting to disturb them too much, Allison simply stood off-side and let the exchange go on. When Kira noticed her, she cleared her throat.

“Hey, Allison!”

“Hey, guys. Tell who, what?” She tried for non-chalant and casual, hoping her questioning would come across interested, but not intrusive.

Malia shot a nervous glance at Erica, who, in turn, threw a questioning look at Lydia. She seemed to consider the situation for a second before nodding at her.

“Okay, tía. You may want to take a seat.”

Allison suddenly felt very nervous, but took a seat beside Lydia on the set of steps the gang were standing around.

“Who wants to take this one?”

When no one responded to Erica’s question, she sighed. “Fine.”

Allison scoffed. “Come on, guys, it can’t be that bad.”

“Maybe not bad, but it’s… kind of weird,” Lydia said from her side.

“I’m a big girl.”

Erica nodded, looking like she was trying to psych herself up. She closed her eyes, and looked at her feet. When she looked back up, her irises were glowing a yellowish gold. Allison stared, thinking at first that it was a trick of the light. After a moment, she was sure that what she was seeing was what she was seeing. That did not, however, explain anything to her.

“That’s... cool, but I’m not sure what--”

“Malia, claws,” Lydia ordered.

Malia stepped forward, rolled up her sleeve and tensed her fingers. Long, thick claws grew slowly out of her nail beds. Allison heard herself gasp, but felt strangely disconnected from any sense of disbelief. She still felt too confused.

“Okay, I get the ‘weird’. What exactly are you guys?”

“Isn’t that a question,” Kira said, and everyone but Allison laughed.

“Werewolves,” Lydia explained. “At least, Cora and Erica are. Technically, Malia is a werecoyote, but for argument’s sake, it’s basically the same.”

All three girls nodded in unison.

“I’m a kitsune. We’re not sure what exactly I can do yet. It’s pretty new to me.”

Allison nodded. She turned slowly to Lydia. “And you?”

“Mostly human, but kind of not. Banshee.”

“Right. Is that like a ‘from birth’ thing or…”

Lydia smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s complicated, and we’re still not entirely sure. I was bitten when I was a sophomore in high school, but it didn’t take. My grandmother was a banshee, too. I can tell you more about that later.”

“Sure. What about you guys?”

“Malia and I have been ‘wolves since birth. As far as we know, Kira’s is a ‘from birth’ thing. Her mother is one, too,” said Cora.

“I was bitten,” Erica added.

Everything went silent as the girls let Allison process the information. A minute passed, and Lydia was sure that Allison wasn’t going to run before she spoke again.

“If you have any questions, hit us. We don’t mind.”

“I have so many questions. But none right now.”

“Just throw them at us whenever you think of them!” Kira smiled.

All of the girls looked happy, more relaxed than when Allison had arrived. Erica, wearing a grin like a cheshire cat, lunged forward and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“Got to say, cariña, you took that insanely well.”

“I think I’m probably in shock. I might cry over the fact that my friends are werecreatures later on tonight.”

“Nah, you’ll be fine. It doesn’t mean much, really. We’re just a little stronger, and a little faster. We have some animal instincts, I guess, but most of us,” Cora narrowed her eyes in Malia’s direction, “manage to keep them in check.”

“Shut up, deer is delicious.”

“You guys are such nerds.” Erica dropped her arm from Allison’s shoulders and began to walk away. Malia, Cora, and Kira followed after her, bickering light-heartedly about their weirder habits. Allison stood and brushed the dust off of the back of her skirt. From her seat on the step, Lydia smiled up at her.

“That’s it now, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re officially in.” Lydia stood gracefully and stepped off the steps, sauntering after her gang. Allison, momentarily frozen by this announcement, almost didn’t catch it when Lydia looked back over her shoulder and called to her. “Welcome to the family.”

Allison was glad no one else could see the smile that her words had caused.

* * *

 

It wasn’t long before Allison became instrumental in operations. Her bond with all of the girls grew, and she realised that Lydia had been right, they were a family. There was something so warm and welcoming about being with these girls, these girls who had just as many scars as Allison. The more beat-up Allison’s hands became, the more she felt her confidence grow. The better she became at the weapons that Kira introduced her to, the more she felt herself grow. The more she fought back-to-back with these girls, the more she felt she would always have a safety net.

This only faltered when she was alone. When she was alone, her mind wandered to her family, her real family. An aunt who burned a whole family alive in their house when she was rejected, a grandfather who maintained that she was justified, a father who was too busy struggling with his own morality to be there for his wife and daughter, a mother who died rather than face what Kate had done. And Allison, who had always been angry but was now unable to control it. Allison, who drank to sleep. Allison, who was one bad day away from destroying everything she had built. Allison, who was drawn to the amazing girl who had taken her under her wing, but was too scared to tell her, lest she lose everything.

Allison, who, on her darker days, would draw away from the group. She hadn’t told them about her, about her past. All they knew was that she left her father behind, that she was holding on to something. They never asked.

And still, when Allison would lock herself in her apartment for two, three, four days with a whole lot of whiskey and a bag of tricks from Stiles (the only member of the McCall gang who promised to keep her buying a secret from Lydia), one of them would always turn up to find her.

Most often, it was Lydia. Because Lydia owned the apartment, which she had given to Allison as part of her “salary”, she kept a key. When Allison had been missing for a few days, she would come. She would let herself in, she would throw open the curtains, throw away anything that was left from the binge, and wake Allison.

“Allison. Get up.”

“What? What are you doing here?”

“I’m your boss, and you haven’t been doing your job. Get up.”

“Go away.”

“Allison, if you don’t get out of that bed I am going to get Malia in her to make you.”

Allison sat up, rage running through her. She screamed, “Why the fuck do you care?”

Lydia went deathly silent. Her face was set with so much rage that Allison shrank back a little. When she spoke, her voice was a harsh whisper, cut with an edge of something Allison couldn’t place--maybe hurt, maybe hatred, maybe something else. “I am your boss. I do not pay you to slowly kill yourself.”

“We’re all angry, Lydia, you said it yourself. Why does it matter how I deal with that? I’ll get what you need me to do done.”

“What we do is supposed to be your way of dealing with it. Take your anger out on people who deserve it! Fuck, just talk to us. I--We care about you, Allison. If you don’t want to do this anymore, if you don’t want to work with us, that’s fine, but for fuck sake you deserve so much better than this.” Lydia rarely raised her voice, but when she did, it took on a manic tone, a desperation that injured Allison to her core.

“No I don’t!” Allison’s breath was laboured, coming out in hot, frenzied puffs.

Lydia shook her head, looking as injured as Allison felt. Her voice was quiet again. “Think that if you want, Ally, but I’m not going to let you die in this room. Whatever it is inside you that’s eating you up, I can handle it. And I’ll help you, whatever you need.”

She turned to leave, but stopped with her hand on the handle of the door. Over her shoulder, she told Allison. “As of now, though, you no longer work for me. Come see me when you’re ready.” Then she left.

Of course, later that day, Allison found her. She sat at her feet and cried, told her that the gang was her family, that she loved her job, that she was sorry and that she would try. Lydia soothed her, ran her hands through her hair and told her, of course, her job was still there. The rest of the girls hugged her, told her that whenever she was ready, they were there if she needed to talk.

Things went back to normal, for a while.

* * *

 

While all of the girls hung out, both all together and in separate smaller groups, Allison found that she spent an increasing amount of time with Lydia. The boss had taken to coming over unannounced, sometimes bringing food, usually bringing flowers for the kitchen, and always brightening Allison’s day. Allison reasoned that she was under watch, that Lydia was making sure she didn’t slip off of the radar again, start hurting herself.

Lydia was fixing the violets in the vase on the breakfast bar, and Allison was making them something to eat when Lydia spoke. “So, I realised that you’ve been with us for six months.”

“I have?”

“Yep.”

“How do you remember that?”

Lydia just shrugged. “Anyway, I got you this.” Lydia handed over a small black box, tied with a white ribbon.

Allison considered it for a minute, running a fingertip across the satin ribbon, before sliding it off and opening the box. “Lyds, you shouldn’t have got me anything.”

“I wanted to.”

Inside, black velvet cushions presented a small knife. The handle was polished, gleaming in the dim light. When Allison tilted it toward her, she could make out an engraving on the end of the blade.

“A bow and arrow?”

“Well, Kira told me that was your favourite weapon, but you can’t very well carry a crossbow around with you. This is kind of like an homage.”

Allison couldn’t stop the fond smile from spreading across her face.

“Go on!” Lydia practically squealed. “Play with it!”

Allison took it out of the box and quickly realised that it was not a standard knife, as she had first thought. The handle, which appeared smooth while in the box, split into two parts under the pressure of her fingers.

“A butterfly knife,” she breathed, admiration evident in her voice.

“Balisong.”

“You are… incredible.” Allison looked up at Lydia, who was wearing an expectant look. Instead of doing what Allison knew she was expecting--trying out the knife--Allison put the knife carefully on its cushion and laid the box on the counter-top. She looked up at Lydia’s confused face before quickly muttering, “Please don’t kill me”. She pushed her body forward until her lips met Lydia’s, her hands pulling her hips into her own. It took Lydia a second to recover from the shock, but once she did, she fell into the kiss. As Allison had expected, kissing Lydia was a constant battle. Both wanted to lead, to own. It was forceful in a way no other kiss Allison had shared was, but it was soft at the same time.

When they pulled apart, Lydia was smirking, and Allison was breathless.

“Took you long enough,” Lydia said.

When Allison dipped her head to try and capture her lips again, Lydia retreated.

“Later,” she whispered. “We have work to do.”

* * *

 

Since coming to Beacon Hills, Allison had been in plenty of fights, so many that they all melded into one. But this one, with the tingle of Lydia still on her lips and her nerve-endings still burning where their skin met, she felt like she could raze everything around her to ash. She felt superhuman, and when she felt her knuckles connect with the jaw of the squat girl who was swinging at her, she felt her face break into a savage grin. When she heard her body smack the ground, she raised her head.

Lydia, wearing her brass knuckles, looked back at her. There was blood smeared across her lips and chin and when she caught Allison looking, her tongue shot out to lick at the blood there, and she winked.

Allison suddenly felt like she was burning alive, suddenly knew what it was to crave someone, to adore them. The feeling swept over her, leaving her dazed; the spell was only broken when she heard Malia call her name. Allison swung around and landed a front kick at the base of Malia’s attacker’s spine.

As they all walked away from the parking lot, members of Satomi’s gang still lying around their feet, Lydia’s hand found Allison’s. Without thought to the other girls, she pulled her in, kissing her deeply. The metallic taste of blood met her tongue, and Lydia’s lips felt puffy against hers, but she kissed her anyway, fervently.

The rest of the gang whooped, laughed at their timing.

As they kept walking, all six of them sang loudly into the night.

Allison looked around at her friends, her family. All blood-crusted, leather jackets and smashing 40 bottles in alleyways; all swing-first, talk-later; all switchblades in their boots; all powerful; all deviant; all heart; all home; all unadulterated love.

* * *

 

“You know, I kind of knew,” Lydia told her one morning, “maybe not the first time I saw you, but that night in the club, I knew you’d be perfect for us.”

Allison looked up from where she was doing a crossword, as her and Lydia always did first thing in the morning. “What? I looked like a gang-banger?”

“Call us gang-bangers again.”

She held her hands up. “Joking!”

“I knew you would fit with us, that you could be a part of our family.”

“Did you know I’d be your favourite?”

Lydia moved to stand in front of her, letting herself be bracketed by Allison’s knees. She placed her hands on her cheeks and looked straight into her eyes.

“From the minute you opened your mouth.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Have you ever read _Macbeth_?”

“Shakespeare?”

“Yeah.

“Can’t say I have.”

“There’s this line, describing Lady Macbeth: ‘Look like th’ innocent, but be the serpent under’t’. That’s what I thought that night.”

“That I was a snake?” Allison adopted a confused but entertained face. She was used to Lydia doing this, making small links between knowledge she had and the real world.

“No.” Lydia rolled her eyes. “The line is about someone who, for all the world, is sweet and innocent and delicate, but is low-key powerful and deadly. A killer in floral dresses.”

“Oh. So I’m deceptive?”

“I thought that, maybe a little, at first.”

“And now?”

“Now I think you’re both. Deadly, but innocent. Powerful, but sweet and light and good.”

Allison raised her eyebrows.

“Was that stupid?” Lydia said, laughing.

“No. I’m just surprised.” Allison ducked her head forward and began placing small kisses along Lydia’s jawline. “Because I’m, you know, bad to the bone.”

“Completely.” Lydia gasped as Allison’s mouth moved up to her ear, pulling it lightly between her teeth.

“Seriously. You should fear me.”

“Absolutely.”

“I’m scary.”

“Terrifying.” Lydia nodded, pulling back. “I really hope you don’t chase after me, you big bad monster.” With a smirk she turned on her heel, dodged around the couch and made for the door at the opposite side of the room.

Before Allison could push herself out of the chair she was sitting in, Lydia’s shirt hit her lightly in the face.

Allison growled playfully--a habit that she had inherited from Malia and Erica--and chased after her, slamming the bedroom door behind herself.

* * *

 

When Lydia’s phone rang once, they ignored it. When it rang a second time, Lydia adopted ‘Boss-mode’. She turned over in the bed and grabbed her phone. She didn’t have time to greet the caller.

“Lyds. Get here, now,” Erica said urgently.

“Erica, what’s wrong?” Lydia sat up in the bed, her voice flooded with fear. Allison wasted no time, she jumped out of bed and began pulling on her clothes. It didn’t matter to her what the trouble was, just that there was trouble.

“Kali’s gang. They’re coming.”

“Where are you?” Lydia joined Allison in rushing to dress, phone still held pressed against her ear.

“We’re down on East, by that old shoe factory.”

“We’ll take Ally’s bike, we’ll be there in ten minutes. You guys good?”

“Yeah, just hurry.”

Lydia hung up, now ready to leave. She glanced up at Allison, who was looking at her expectantly.

“It’s Kali, her gang. They’re coming here.”

“Who’s Kali?”

“She’s an older woman. Her gang runs stuff the next town over. For about a year they’ve been pushing our borders, wanting in on our territory, which isn’t going to happen. They’re fucking ruthless, with everything. With who the sell drugs too, with shake downs, with intimidation. We’ve got to go,” Lydia said. She stepped quickly into Allison’s space. “But, promise me you’ll be careful.”

Allison placed a chaste kiss on her lips and nodded.

* * *

 

Lydia was not joking when she said that Kali’s gang were ruthless. While her own gang were no strangers to weapons, Kali’s group were armed to the teeth. Lydia and Cora had both called in all of the gang members, not just the inner circle. Twenty or so of their girls faced Kali’s group of twenty-five, waiting for the word from their boss.

Lydia spoke first. “Kali, this doesn’t need to happen. We don’t want to fight you. Just stay on your territory and we’ll stay on ours.”

Kali lips spread slowly into a cruel smile. “But we like it here so much better, right girls?”

Kali’s gang whooped and howled and laughed in agreement.

“I’m not giving you an inch of my town, Kali.”

“Then we’re going to have to make you.”

“Mother--” Erica started. Her forward-movement was cut short by Lydia’s outstretched hand.

“You even keep the rabid pups in line? Maybe you should work for me, keep all of these lovely girls working.”

“Like hell.”

“Well then, you can watch mine tear them apart.” With a flick of her wrist, her gang flew towards Allison and their line of defence.

Allison was carrying both her balisong and a baseball bat, a present from Stiles. She kept the knife stashed, preferring to keep to beating people unless she was threatened. She felt herself mow through Kali’s soldiers with ease. She aimed for knees and then skulls, for once not bothering to restrain herself. When she glanced around the other girls were doing the same, but Lydia. She couldn’t see Lydia.

Her breath caught when she found her, lying on the ground at Kali’s feet.

Allison pushed herself hard off the ground, hurtling toward them. She tackled Kali, surprised only for a minute by the solidness of her thin body. The muscle, however, did not stop Kali being taken down by the brute force Allison exerted. As soon as they hit the ground, Allison scrambled to her feet. Lydia was squinting up at her, looking dazed but not hurt. She turned her back on her and faced Kali, who was already on her feet, a glittering knife in her hand.

She felt her lips curl into a snarl as she watched the tall woman pull herself to her full height.

“So you’re the new second I’ve been hearing about.”

“I guess I am.” They began to circle around each other slowly, Kali clutching her knife, Allison her bat. “And I’m giving you this last chance to leave.”

Kali’s laugh sent chills through Allison, scornful and amused at the same time.

“That’s not like an Argent.”

Allison’s body stopped responding, her legs would not move. She was peripherally aware of Lydia watching her, not making any move to help her. Kali’s steely voice rang through the haze in her head. “You are, aren’t you? An Argent.”

Allison couldn’t make herself respond.

“You look just like Kate.”

At that, Allison felt the familiar sensation of pure rage filling her up, burning through her limbs. Even when she forced her body to move, to begin walking again, she could not force her mouth to work.

“Does your girlfriend know?” Kali stuck her chin out toward Lydia. Allison’s head shot around, taking in the image of her boss, standing now and looking defiantly at Kali. Allison was suddenly so afraid, so terrified of losing her that the only logical thing her brain could reach was denial.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Allison spat.

Instead of addressing Allison again, Kali looked past her at Lydia.

“Your girl here, your new second, is part of a hunter family that live out in Nevada. The almighty Argent family.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Allison saw Cora stop and face them. Slowly, the rest of the girls, fighters from both sides, stopped as well. They were all watching the pair slowly revolve around each other, no one daring to get between them.

“Of course, everyone in Beacon Hills knows the name. Kate Argent, crazy son-of-a-bitch, burned the whole Hale family alive just for fun.” She turned to Allison. “Didn’t she?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Allison pressed through gritted teeth.

“Not like your family to give anyone a fighting chance.”

Allison snapped. She wasn’t sure why she was so angry, the gang was bound to find out some time. Maybe it was the explicit acknowledgement that it was Cora’s family that Kate had done that to (something she could only speculate on up until that point). She was slowly becoming more comfortable with her past, with the fact that she was not her family. But standing here, faced with it all, so harshly worded and out of her control, something in Allison broke. All of the rage that she had held down, all of those feelings of self-hatred, came screaming to the surface.

She launched at Kali, an inhuman scream tearing from her throat. She swung the bat wildly, feeling it catch on Kali’s skull. As Kali fell, she laughed that high and sardonic laugh. Making sure Kali had dropped the knife, Allison let go of her bat and jumped on her fallen body, laying punches anywhere her hands landed.

“You look so like her,” Kali spat.

Allison punched her in the jaw.

“Uncontrollable.”

Allison sank her knuckles into the soft skin of Kali’s temple.

“Psychotic.”

Allison felt Kali’s teeth crunch beneath her fist, felt warm blood coat her knuckles.

“A monster.”

Allison screamed. She pulled the balisong from her boot and held the exposed blade to Kali’s windpipe.

While her laughter died, a harsh smirk stayed on her face. Allison could hear Lydia behind her, her voice soft and reassuring, saying her name.

She looked into Kali’s eyes, almost black.

“Do it,” Kali said. “Prove me right. It’s in your nature.”

Allison felt the words vibrate right down to her bones. She had worked so hard, overcome so much, but here she was, being exactly like Kate.

Without a word, she rose. Tears came quickly to her eyes, and she turned and ran, leaving Kali, Lydia, and her family behind her.

* * *

 

Lydia found her sitting on the edge of her bathtub, hunched over and shaking. The closing door alerted her to Lydia’s presence, and her head shot up. Her face was ruddy from tears, still splattered with blood--either Kali’s or her own--and her eyes wide with shock and fear. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she just shook her head.

“Ally,” Lydia said, as softly as she could, praying she could keep the shaking out of her voice.

Allison just shook her head again. Lydia understood the “don’t come near me” in it.

“Allison. I’m going to check you for bad injuries, okay?”

When she didn’t move, Lydia crossed the room quickly and silently. She crouched down in front of Allison, taking her bloody hands in her own. She ran her hands over Allison’s body, applying pressure on the parts of her skin that felt puffy or swollen. Allison barely reacted, wincing only once. Satisfied that there was no permanent injury, Lydia moved to the sink and soaked a washcloth with warm water. Allison went pliant as she began to clean the blood off of her knuckles.

“We knew, you know?”

Allison could only look at her.

Lydia continued. “How long have you known us? You think we wouldn’t check up on you or your story?”

Allison opened her mouth, then closed it again without a word.

“Your mother’s maiden name. So very original, Ally.” Lydia tried to force her face to look amused, but she knew her fear was obvious. She moved the cloth to clean the blood from Allison’s fingers, to where it had run down her wrist.

“We don’t care, Allison. We knew you were an Argent from before we even told you about the whole 'werewolf' situation, but we didn’t--we don’t care. You are not your aunt. You are not your grandfather. You have proven to us time and time again that you would put yourself in the firing line for any one of us.”

A squeak escaped Allison as Lydia moved to clean the droplets of blood from her cheeks and chin.

“Not least from me. Do you think I would have let you in so far if I didn’t trust you?”

When Lydia was satisfied that all the blood was gone, she pressed herself forward, laying delicate kisses on Allison’s cheeks.

“Do you think I would have come to find you all of those times?”

She lifted her bruised knuckles, and kissed them.

“Do you think I would have let you see the softer sides of me?”

She bent and kissed softly over the swollen and bruised parts of Allison’s ribs.

“Do you think I would have let myself love you?”

She raised herself back up to look the Allison in the eye. She was crying again, tears silently rolling down her cheeks. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse.

“What if she’s right? What if I’m a monster?”

“You are many things, Allison Argent, but monster is not one of them.”

“You saw what I did to Kali. I could have killed her, and for what? Just because I couldn’t keep my cool.”

“Kali knew what buttons to press to rile you. What happened is not your fault.”

“What if I hurt you?” Their eyes met as she said it, and the pain and fear that darkened her eyes made the air in Lydia’s lungs turn solid; it was a long moment before her breath came back to her.

“Please.” She quirked an eyebrow. “As if you could take me.” She tried a light laugh, and Allison’s lips spread slowly into a small smile.

“That’s my girl.” Lydia smiled, pulling herself back up and holding her hands out to Allison. “Come on. Let’s get you into some clean clothes.”

Once Allison had changed, Lydia set about making them both tea. As she was working, she heard Allison put on music. She knew the song, they had listened to it over and over again the first night they fell into bed together.

As Josh Ramsey’s voice flowed through the room, Lydia felt Allison press her body against her back, wrapping her arms around Lydia’s waist and laying her head on the back of her shoulder.

Abandoning the tea, Lydia slowly turned herself so she was facing her. She lifted her arms and placed them around Allison’s neck. Allison laid her forehead against Lydia’s as both of their bodies swayed to the music. She felt warmth spread through her body, radiating from the parts of her body that Lydia was touching. As she looked into her eyes, tears filling them to the brim, she felt overwhelming affection.

When the song ended, the room was filled jangly guitar--a song Erica had given to Allison, a fight song.

Smiling, Lydia started dancing in earnest, her hips moving in time with the drums.

“Come on Allison, dance with me!”

“I’m trying to be serious here. I was being romantic!”

In response, Lydia broke away and blew a raspberry at her, and continued to dance away from her.

“Come get me, Ally.”

Allison threw herself at her. Lydia dodged around her, flying across the room with a cheerful laugh. She stepped up on to the couch, jumping up and down as she taunted Allison. She was caught off guard, however, when Allison bounded across the arm of the chair and tackled her. She fell on to her back, with Allison lying on top of her, pressing her down into the cushions.

“Got you.”

“You’ve got me.”

Allison smiled. When she kissed Lydia, she tried to put every unspoken word into it: her gratitude, her guilt, her fear, her want, her adoration. The kiss deepened, and all of the soft left it. It became hurried, urgent and hungry. Despite the fact that both of them were bruised and aching, they wasted no time in tearing away the clothes, laying fevered kisses on any piece of skin their mouths could reach. As Allison picked Lydia up from the couch, her muscles screamed, but the feeling of Lydia’s strong legs wrapped around her waist, attacking her neck with her teeth and lips and tongue, more than made up for it.

She dropped her on to the bed, and when she saw her laid out in front of her, mouth open and pupils blown out, Allison felt that affection crash through her in waves. She pressed her down into the bed, and put her mouth beside her ear.

She asked, “Did you mean it?”

All she needed was Lydia’s nod.

* * *

 

The morning sun woke Allison, and she groaned as she pulled the blankets over both of their heads. The noise woke Lydia, who turned over sleepily and grumbled that Allison was a baby.

Allison kissed her forehead. “Can we just stay in bed all day?

“Tempting, but nope.”

“What? Why?” Allison moaned, knowing she did, in fact, sound like a child. She didn’t care. Every muscle in her body ached, her hands felt weak from bruising, and lying in bed with Lydia was the only thing that felt even slightly doable.

“Because, we have no food here. And I’m not eating take-out again.”

“Ugh, fine. Will you come back to bed, at least?”

“How about you take all of the blankets out to the couch? Then we can watch Mulan on the big TV, instead of on your laptop.”

“I am okay with that.”

“Good.” Lydia pressed a kiss to her temple and pushed herself out of the bed.

She was only gone a couple of minute when there was a knock at the door. Allison unloaded her armfuls of blankets on to the couch and jogged towards it.

“Did you forget your keys again? And why are you back--” Allison’s words died in her mouth. Cora stood in the hallway, looking shy. A tight knot formed in Allison’s stomach, and her legs went weak under her.

“Uh, hi.” Cora fiddled with the sleeves of her sweater, clearly feeling nervous herself.

“Hey.”

“Can I come in?”

Allison nodded, stepping back to let her pass.

“Sorry about all the blankets and stuff,” she said, waving her arms around ineffectually. “I thought that would be Lydia, she’s just out getting some groceries.”

“Yeah, I know…”

“Did she tell you to come here?”

“No. She just gave me a heads up that she wouldn’t be here. I wanted to come, anyway.”

Cora moved to sit at the breakfast bar, and Allison busied herself making a pot of coffee, wanting to do something that would occupy her shaking hands.

“Allison?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m not angry or upset with you.”

“Oh?” Allison’s voice was reedy.

“Oh, for Christ sake, look at me.”

Allison sighed and turned around, placing two mugs of coffee on the breakfast bar between them. She reluctantly raised her eyes to meet Cora’s. Her face was earnest, maybe a little worried.

“What your aunt did, it was terrible. The family that was left… it took a long time for us to recover from it. Uncle Peter didn’t, really, but even before the fire, he was volatile.

“Laura got me and Derek into therapy pretty much straight after. Derek is kind of closed off, now, but he’s come a long way. Laura is doing great, has a family in upstate New York. I’m the best I’ve been since it happened. I have a great job, I have you guys; I’m happy, you know? I mean, nothing could ever replace my family, but I also have a new family.

“I’m not going to sit here and tell you that I can excuse what Kate did. I can’t. I think her, and Gerard, are horrible people. But a lot of people are terrible, and a lot of people do horrific things to other people.”

The colour had drained from Allison’s face. She didn’t look away from Cora’s face, but her hands tapped incessantly on the edge of her cup, all of her nerves and anxiety concentrated down to the tips of her fingers.

“But I don’t blame you,” Cora continued. “We are not who we’re related to. That’s not what defines us. Who we are in ourselves, the things we do, that defines us. I don’t believe in ‘guilty by association’.

“If you think for one minute that I care that you’re an Argent, or think that I suddenly don’t consider you part of our family anymore, you could not be more wrong.”

Allison let out a shaking breath. “But sometimes, I get so angry. I get really irrational. What if I did something…”

“Allison, we’ve known you long enough to know that all of your destructive tendencies tend to be aimed inward. Plus, if you tried to do something stupid, we’d stop you. That’s what friends do.”

“I looked up to her for so long.”

“Well, that makes sense. She was an older aunt, an important figure in your life. You didn’t know what she was capable of. And you didn’t help her light that fire.”

“Yeah.”

Cora took a sip of the cooled coffee and considered her for a moment.

“Lydia told you about what happened her sophomore year, right?”

“Yeah. Some crazy werewolf bit her, against her will. She nearly died when the bite didn’t take, and it’s the reason she realised she was a banshee.”

“Right,” Cora nodded. “Did she, by any chance, tell you the name of the ‘wolf?”

Allison shook her head.

“It was Peter… Peter Hale.”

“Your--”

“My uncle. He wanted to build a pack, and he bit her against her will. Lydia nearly died because of my uncle, but the minute I turned up at her door and asked her for a job, for a second chance, she opened her arms and her home to me. She gave me every chance I needed to prove myself, and she became one of my best friends. She introduced me to the girls, and things in my life got so much better.

“Can you imagine if Lydia had turned her back on me that day? Or if any of the other girls did when they found out? I don’t know where I would be.

“Turning our back on our friends for something out of their control, that’s not in our nature; that’s not how we do things.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Cora nodded, and then stood. “I have to go, we’re picking up some money from Scott’s gang.”

“Sure.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow though, right?”

Allison nodded.

“Cool. And, Allison?”

“Yeah?”

“I thought you would want to know: Kali is fine. Back on her own turf with a clean bill of health.”

Allison’s mouth fell open. She had thought that she had inflicted serious damage, she had felt bones crack and teeth cave in.

Cora shrugged. “Werewolf healing.”

“Is everyone we know a werewolf?” Allison asked, incredulously.

“Dude, this is Beacon Hills.” Cora laughed as she showed herself out.

* * *

 

Lydia was sad, but not shocked when she found Allison’s apartment empty two days later. Lydia knew it would take more than that night, more than that softness, to show Allison that love was not something to run away from.

Lydia let herself sit for a few minutes, collecting her thoughts and calming herself down, before swallowing the lump in her throat and running from the apartment.

She got to the train station in record time. It wasn’t like the cops were going to pull Lydia Martin over, not in Beacon Hills. She walked in the main door and felt her knees almost buckle underneath her with relief when she saw Allison sitting on one of the benches, chewing her lip and watching the announcement board nervously.

She sat beside her and said nothing. She knew it would be best to let Allison lead this conversation.

“I knew you’d come.”

“Good.”

“I didn’t want you to.”

“I know.”

“I have to leave. I don't think I can handle this lifestyle anymore.”

“Okay.”

Allison looked at her, then. Lydia’s face was a picture of complacency.

“Okay,” was all she could manage.

“Where are we going?”

“What?” Allison sputtered.

“My bag is in my car.”

Allison’s face urged Lydia to continue the explanation.

“Ally, believe it or not, I know you pretty well. I knew this was coming.”

“But--”

“But nothing. If you’re going, I’m going with you. We have more than enough money. Cora can handle stuff here.”

“I don’t--”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just tell me where we’re going.”

“I was thinking San Fran.”

Lydia nodded. “I’m going to go get my stuff. I expect you’ll be here when I get back?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Lydia nodded again as she stood. “And Allison?”

“Yeah?”

Lydia leaned down and pressed their lips together. As she pulled away, she smiled. “I love you.”

* * *

 

Sometimes, Allison had to pinch herself. Life in San Fran was so different from what she was used to, but it was so perfect. The apartment they rented was half the size of either of their apartments in Beacon Hills, and everything had been painted white like a hospital, but it took them no time to fill the space up with themselves: pictures of the girls, soft blankets and bookshelves. It felt more like home than anywhere else Allison had ever lived.

After a month living there, they had adopted a cat. He had an amputated leg and scars across his face from fights he had been in. They had named him Trouble, and vowed he would be the only trouble they had in their lives anymore.

Allison thought, sometimes, about the fighting, about the rush it gave her, but she couldn’t bring herself to miss it.

She found that giving yourself over to someone else was also a practice in vulnerability, and it was so much more rewarding.


End file.
